


Graves -- Under the Mask Edition

by susies_fandom_wonders



Series: Requested Fics [30]
Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: Gen, behind the scenes in utm, mentions of desmond's family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-01 09:33:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13292031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/susies_fandom_wonders/pseuds/susies_fandom_wonders
Summary: Desmond visits his family's grave... without Raymond.





	Graves -- Under the Mask Edition

**Author's Note:**

> Requested by @one-groovy-rose. Can be found on my Tumblr blog, slenderbrine22.tumblr.com.

Desmond woke up earlier than he had in a long time. He could hear Nate’s deep, even breaths next to him. They had finally managed to get a spare room tidied up for Layton; he was doing much, much better now. The bruising around his neck was finally fading; however, it still hurt him too much to speak. Nate had expressed his concerns about that to Des -- he wanted to take the professor in to the hospital.

Desmond had panicked, then. Targent was still out there -- they could be monitoring hospitals for them. He adamantly refused over and over until the professor finally spoke up, in a raspy voice:

“I’ll be fine until --” Layton winced, his jaw tightening before relaxing momentarily. “Targent is gone.”

Desmond bit his lip as he sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes. Nate had -- he still wouldn’t -- 

He needed to see them. The thought surfaced, and no matter how much he knew that he shouldn’t just leave --

He needed to. He could -- he could disguise himself. He kept things at Nate’s house -- he had used his home multpile times to store his disguises. He stood, moving towards the rather large closet in the bedroom. He needed to be quiet -- Nate was a light sleeper, even more so since he and Layton arrived about a month ago. It was good for him to sleep in -- it was a bit late for Nate to still be sleeping, he must be so exhausted taking care of them.

He pulled out a box, opening it and rummaging through the clothing, makeup, and wigs before pulling out a few things. A small, red dress, black stockings, a long, black-haired wig. He froze and looked over at Nate as the other man stirred, giving a soft hum. He gathered the items in his hands, pulling out his bag of makeup before moving towards the living room downstairs.

In a few moments, he was a completely different person. He slung a purse over his shoulder, placing his makeup and a brush in there before slipping on his shoes.  
Desmond pulled open the front door carefully -- it squeaked past a certain point, he had memorized it well -- and slipped out quietly, shutting the door.

\-----

Nate stirred slightly when someone shook his shoulders. Was it Desmond? Was he having a panic attack?

“Nate?” His eyes shot open at not Desmond’s voice, but Hershel’s. The professor stared back at him with terrified eyes. He straightened as Nate opened his eyes, biting his lip.  
“What is it, Professor?” 

“He’s gone.” Nate’s stomach dropped. He looked over to where Des normally slept.

“He’s not here?” Nate’s voice squeaked. “Where’d he --” He looked at the closet door. The door was open, it definitely was closed the night before. The dark-haired man cursed, throwing off the blankets and taking a few quick strides to the other side of the room.

The box Des used for his disguises was in the middle of the room, the lid open slightly.

“Shit!” Nate shot down the stairs and started pulling on his shoes; he could hear Layton close behind. “He’s disguised. He’s probably in London.”

“Where is he?”

“I don’t --” Nate’s voice trembled. “--I don’t know. He could be -- He could be anywhere.” He frequented many places, and the routine he had put himself into when he had met Nate was… atrocious. Terrible. Nate didn’t understand why Des enjoyed that sort of pain. He could’ve gone somewhere where he could forget. “We need to find him.” There was a hand on Nate’s shoulder then -- the man didn’t know he was shaking until he found his body tensing from the contact.

“It’ll be okay.”

“You don’t understand.” Nate was close to panicking now.

“Sh-h-h. Calm. Level heads are the key to success.” Nate took a deep breath.

“...Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”

\-----

Des sat down in the grassy patch by his family’s gravestones. He reach into his purse, pulling out a small, red bowtie, clutching it in his hands. Despite him crying and screaming the past few weeks, he still had more tears in him, trailing down his face in hot, heavy streams. He held the piece of fabric close to his chest, his shoulders shaking.

It was silent for a long time, the sky was grey and cloudy, but it had not started to rain yet. Desmond felt a soft sort of peace wash over him as he cried. These deaths weren’t as painful now as -- as the most recent one.

“I -- I killed him,” He finally managed to choke out that sentence. “I… I ran straight into that damned army, my anger -- it blinded me. I didn’t want -- I didn’t want the Chamber to be taken by them.”

The graves next to him didn’t respond. He wasn’t expecting one. 

“I’m… I’m such an idiot. A nitwit, really.” Desmond was calm. He just needed to tell them this. “I got you two killed -- and then -- I got him killed. My -- my only other --” Desmond paused. “-- My only other comfort, my only other confidant.” He paused. “He -- he knew that -- he knew that someone would -- someone would die if I engaged. I didn’t notice the underlying warnings.” He had stopped crying at this point, the tears starting to dry.

A soft wind blew past him, as if comforting him. He couldn’t help giving a small smile before his eyes drooped.

“Would you two be mad if I slept here with you?” No response. Desmond sighed, then laid down next to his family’s gravestones. “I would have slept here regardless, it just felt right to ask.” Another pause as Desmond closed his eyes. “Sweet dreams, Oli, Violet… Raymond.” Another soft, gentle breeze, brushing its fingers against his cheek, stirring his hair. He smiled again, then focused on steadying his breathing.

\-----

“Find him yet?” Nate looked over at Hershel. The professor shook his head.

“No.” The dark-haired man cursed again. He had cursed a lot today. Layton frowned, but didn’t say anything. Where else could he be? They passed a graveyard on their way back to Nate’s car down the block when Layton paused, looking into the fenced off area. Before Nate could ask, Layton quickly strode into the cemetary. Nate looked at him for a few moments before following him.

“Professor --?” The younger man knelt down by a collapsed figure. Nate recognized the clothing. The wig.

“Oh, my God --” Nate rushed over to Desmond’s side, checking quickly for wounds.

None. Good. Layton had moved his focus from Desmond to the gravestones next to them.

“Nate. His family,” he whispered. “They’re here.”

Oh. So that’s why he…?

“Let’s just… get him home.”

Layton gave a small nod, and stood.

“Yes.”


End file.
